From the Sea to the Sky
by bespectacledfanwarrior
Summary: 400 years after the triumph of humanity, history's heroes are reborn with no memory of their previous life. Then a chance meeting between Levi and Hange changes everything and both the good and the terrible of Levi's past returns to haunt him. The world has changed. Remembrance is bittersweet.
1. Prologue

It was Armin in the end, Armin who had stared down hopelessly at his captain as he'd tried in vain to staunch the ragged gash on Levi's stomach, Armin who had lifted him onto the front of his saddle, ignoring the curses and groans of pain, Armin who had unclasped his useless gear and watched the blood bubble over onto his palm.

"I'm going to take you somewhere," he's said. "Somewhere beautiful." _Somewhere to die._

He'd allowed himself to be carried from the battlefield, the very last of his comrades falling into the distance, Armin holding him tightly to his chest so he didn't fall from the horse. No last words, no time to say goodbye, but he didn't mind. There was no one left he'd want to speak to, not since Yaeger…

They'd all fallen. First his team then, soon after, Erwin. Little by little, death had chipped away at the last of the tiny group of people he could trust. They were titan killers, how could he have expected them to be equipped to fight a king? It was almost ironic really, how Armin, little Armin, was the last man standing in the end.

It wasn't meant to be him. He wasn't meant to be here, staring out at the free world from the front of Armin's saddle. Eren was the one who had promised - promised them, promised him - that he would wipe out the titans so one day he could walk the Earth with his friends by his side. Where was he now? Levi was nothing more than a relic of war. He was done now, empty, like a river ran dry.

He was dragged back into the present as the horse stumbled on a rock and Armin tightened his grip reflexively. He grunted in pain and blood began to blossom afresh across his shirt. The fabric was beginning to stiffen against his skin like cardboard. _Tch, death is always so filthy. _He usually overlooked his insatiable urge to be clean when tending to fallen soldiers but when it was his own demise the experience was understandably different.

"Shit! Captain, are you alright?" Armin asked frantically, leaning over his shoulder.

"M'fucking dying… what do you think?" He bit back, wondering vaguely when his voice had begun to slur.

"Just hold on a little longer, we're nearly there!" Armin encouraged, his voice still softened by a lingering tendril of youth, and he shook him a little.

"I give orders… not you, br… you little shit." He couldn't say brat. Not anymore.

Either way, he pulled on some residual reserves of energy, straightening up his back and refocusing on his surroundings.

They were riding down an overgrown track. It was shaded on one side by overhanging oak trees and fell into the edge of a meadow on the other. The low sun shone through the trees and dappled the ground with a hazy orange light, highlighting the deep veins within the yellow leaves and lining them with gold. The late afternoon heat was punctuated by a lazy breeze which gently tousled his hair.

Armin suddenly pressed the reins into his hands and told him to lean forwards. Too tired to question, he complied, and Armin jumped down. Levi sank his fingers into the soft hair of the horse's mane and drooped downwards, whispering nonsensical praise into the animal's ear. Warm brown eyes stared up at him inquisitively and he felt the corners of his mouth lift slightly as he wondered if the animal pitied him. He'd heard that intelligent creatures like horses could tell when someone was dying.

There was a shrill torturous noise as Armin forced open a rotten farmer's gate on its rusty hinges. He pushed it halfway before halting, panting, as the bottom caught on the overgrown weeds on the path.

"It'll fit," Levi said quietly.

Armin looked up, slightly startled.

"Huh?"

"Your horse is small," Levi nodded towards the gate. "It'll fit. Get back over here."

"Y-yes, sir."

Levi raised an eyebrow, silently remarking on how weird this whole thing was. Armin flushed slightly and hurried back over to the horse, swinging onto the saddle and geeing the forwards. He wrapped his arm back around Levi as the steady rocking motion returned.

"Did you name your horse?" Levi asked suddenly, recalling a conversation he'd had with Erwin years earlier. He craned his neck round to meet bright blue eyes, ignoring the annoying haze around the edges of his vision.

"Um… Captain?"

Armin looked monumentally uncomfortable and it dawned on Levi that, even now, the kid was still scared of him. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. The Levi of old would probably have been pleased, satisfied that his reputation had endured. But now… was Armin not his equal in everything but rank? It wasn't as if rank meant much anymore, either.

"I named mine," Levi murmured, his voice barely audible over the background roar of the wind sweeping through the trees and the constant chirping of crickets.

"I mean I- I suppose I just… call her girl or something when I'm just talking to her… not that I… I don't really-"

"Mine was called Isabel," Levi interrupted. "Erwin once told me people who name their horses live longer, some crap about sentimentality. Guess he was wrong on that one."

"I don't know. Eren didn't name his horse either…" Armin trailed off but this time his voice had been strong and clear. It was Levi's turn to feel uncomfortable. _Live longer and lose more._

The terrain was changing around them. There were no more crumbling drystone walls or skeletons of abandoned farm buildings and the neatly segmented fields and meadows had given way to a wild and sprawling land. The branches were closing in around them, tangling together in twisted knots, and the humid air seemed to vibrate with a throbbing energy. Every so often the undergrowth would shiver and something fast and unidentifiable would scurry out and dart across the path.

Lush, emerald branches formed a canopy which slowly blocked out the sun as the forest thickened around them. The air was sweet with sap and rotting wood and the ground was coated with a bed of moss so thick he no longer knew if they were still following the path. All evidence of the noise and light of the outside world was muffled as they ventured deeper and deeper.

Then there was a sharp click as the horse's hooves met with stone and the trees began to thin and become younger and more welcoming again, emerald fading to sap, speckled with yellow. Levi was momentarily dazzled as a light flickered on the horizon; then the setting sun broke through the tree line and the spell shattered.

"Can you feel it?" Armin whispered.

Levi nodded slowly. He could. The ground was dipping down into a shallow slope and a strong breeze was picking up, carrying a bitter taste on the air. The trees here were weak and underdeveloped, their branches bending backwards where they had been battered by the wind. Behind him Armin inhaled deeply and lifted his face the to the sky, letting his blonde hair whip around the back of his head. Levi closed his eyes. The air felt raw and pure, similar to the sensation of using the manoeuvre gear, the familiar rush of exhilaration and freedom.

Armin brought the horse into a canter and they rode down the craggy slope. The motion sent pain jolting through Levi's stomach and his eyes began to roll to the back of his head as he pressed down on the wound. After the haze had descended the next thing he was aware of was Armin shaking him, shouting at him to stay awake. _No, _he wanted to say. _Just leave me be. I'm exhausted, I can't keep going. _But instead he forced himself back from the edge.

"Cut it out you idiot," he groaned. "M'not dead yet."

"Open your eyes, we're here."

Levi blinked blearily, squinting against the sudden brightness. At first he wasn't sure what he was seeing. A fire was burning across an endless plain, it writhed up to the joining of the world where it danced into the sky. Then Levi blinked, the world righted itself, and he realised it wasn't land at all, but water, the sea. The sea was red.

They were standing on the precipice of a tall embankment, overlooking a glistening rocky shore. The setting sun hovered, a burnt orange sphere, on the horizon. Its quivering light spread like a crimson stain over the bruised purple sky where it reflected on the water and shattered into a thousand shards of colour over the waves.

"We have to walk this bit," Armin said, sliding down from the horse and wrapping an arm around Levi's waist. Levi nodded mutely, his eyes still fixed on the sky.

He leaned limply into the younger man's arms, uncharacteristically trusting him to support his weight. They both staggered sideways as he half fell from the saddle. Armin hoisted him up and grabbed his arm, placing it around his shoulders so he could use him as a crutch and they moved at a sluggish pace down to a set of steps cut into the cliff side which they mostly slid down. Levi dimly noted that Armin must have gained a fair amount of muscle in the past five years to be able to carry his weight.

Consciousness was slipping from his grasp by the time they reached the beach.

"Armin… I can't…" He said hoarsely. At last they tumbled to the ground, Armin still holding onto him, one hand was resting over the sticky pool on his stomach while the other supported his head.

Lying there on the shore, their earlier conversation returned to Levi.

"You should keep your horse, don't let the military take her," he said slowly, struggling to form the words.

Armin nodded, looking startled by the sudden announcement, and Levi prayed the fucker wasn't just indulging him.

"Name her. Call her…" He looked around for inspiration. _I don't know, I usually name shit after dead people. _The glint of the lapping waves caught his eye.

"Call her Sapphire… or some shit… something… to do with the sea…"

Armin nodded again but this time he seemed to be smiling a little.

"I like it," he said. "Sapphire."

Levi's world was focusing in on a few tiny details… the slight glimmer in Armin's eyes which could have been tears, the taste of the salty air on his tongue, the pebbles on the uneven ground, the lullaby wash of the waves …

"I wonder what you would have been if there had been no titans, no reason to fight," Armin murmured in a dreamlike voice.

Levi would have actually smiled if he'd had the energy. Everything was fading now.

"Without titans…without Erwin…I'd have been…a thief…murder…probably dead…lot sooner…but there is…always…a cause…to fight…or we'd be…nothing."

He reached out and grasped Armin's sleeve, choking on the battle for his last few breaths, Armin rocking him gently. Then his body relaxed as if he was melting into the ground.

Levi's eyes went blank as the first stars flickered bravely in the darkening sky.


	2. Rock Bottom

"Fuck," Levi muttered as he stumbled on the uneven pavement and splashed through a puddle. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…"

He pulled a sodden clump of hair away from his lips and raked it backwards to where the rest was plastered to his forehead. He gave another brutal tug at the dead weight of the bag he was dragging behind him as one of the wheels fell down a hole in the uneven tarmac. It clattered violently and almost tipped as it bounced down onto the road from the pavement.

The rain was coming down in sheets now and a flash of lightning briefly illuminated the rusty steps climbing the walls of the grotty buildings and the row of bins lining the alley before they were engulfed once more in shadow. Levi swore again as thunder followed almost immediately after and glanced upwards, scowling at the darkened sky. Raindrops were falling into his eyelashes, dripping down his face like tears as he blinked them away.

He refocused his gaze on the dim yellow light of the street corner and staggered forwards again. His mind was beginning to fog as the alcohol he'd furiously downed earlier on seeped through his system. Its numbing tendrils crept through his body, forming a barrior against the discomfort of the sodden clothes clinging to his skin, but betrayed him with the blurring of his vision and the unsteadiness in his steps. Fuck, he shouldn't have drunk anything. The hem of his coat kept catching and tangling around his feet, he barely had the energy to keep dragging his tiny collection of belongings behind him, and soon he would be too drunk to defend himself against a city where only people like him, thieves and murderers, prowled the streets after dark.

The streetlight was tilting. He watched, entranced. Its light burned like a distant falling star, the rain, lit gold in its glow, hung like a halo, a mist, a cloud of fireflies… He hit the ground, hard. His head cracked on the road as he fell forwards and the blood on his grazed palms mingled with gravel and dirt. Groaning, his head pounding, he made a half hearted attempt to push himself up. Then he dropped back down, too tired to even care that his forehead was pressing in the filth of the street, too tired to care that he was drifting…further and further…

_One hour earlier._

The portable TV was fuzzing with static. It briefly flickered in limbo between the Ten O'Clock News and some crappy low budget film about titan shifters, then the distorted voices were silenced and the screen went blank as the power cut out. A collective groan travelled around the bar as the room was plunged into shadow. Levi twitched, and then looked up, and then frowned. Why did shit like this always have to happen on his shift?

He stood up slowly with an obvious hesitance, throwing down the rag he'd been wiping the bar with, and leant forwards on the polished wooden surface. Wind whistling through the eaves and a distant roll of thunder broke through the discontented murmur and a silent ghostly collection of faces followed Levi's progression across the room to the door. He peered out through the window but saw nothing except his own faint reflection set against the darkness of the night. Glancing back at the bedraggled crowd of patrons, a mess of students scattered amongst a more hardy mix of alcoholics and regulars, Levi steeled himself. Then he yanked open the door and the waiting gale swept around the room and sucked any warmth from the musty air.

From the vantage point of one of the higher points in the city Levi could look out from the doorway, over the road, down a worn grassy slope, and out across the majority of the city. The power was completely out across most regions and parts of the city centre were flickering dimly on backup lighting. Naturally, the only part of the city still completely illuminated was the rich district, Levi noted as the aloof edges of the New Paris skyline twinkled mockingly over at him.

"Alright," he said, raising his voice over the rising noise and slamming the door behind him. "Power's out across the city but the rich shits aren't affected and it looks like the industrial areas are still running so it'll take them twice as long to fix the problem without a load of money riding their asses."

Thunder sounded again, a little closer.

"It's only an hour off closing time and that storm looks like it'll be a bad one," he continued. "I'm closing up."

The room burst into drunken uproar. Levi's eyes narrowed and his stance widened, steadfast and immovable.

"Everyone start making your way out," he said calmly, seemingly oblivious to their protests.

For a moment it seemed as though the crowd was going to win as they held their ground stubbornly. Then, one by one, they shook their heads and chugged back the rest of their drinks before making for the door. Levi smirked slightly in triumph.

He really hated people. He hated how they relied on some stupid social paradigm surrounding the bartender/customer relationship that made it okay to come and tell him all about how miserable they were. He hated that the worst of their problems were that they had a house and a wife and a comfortable job and a new car and their mistress wanted them to jack it all in for her and they couldn't decide which was the better offer. Mostly he hated that if he'd been born to a different woman somewhere else he could have been one of them.

"Oi! Just light a fucking candle you shitty midget bastard!"

That fucking did it.

Levi trained his eyes on the man in question. He was huge, the kind of fat that doesn't wobble, just sits in a solid mass. His tiny watery eyes squinted round and his puffy lips seemed too big for his round shiny head. He was now looking extremely pleased with himself, swigging his beer and leering round and the remainder of the crowd.

Despite the man's various unpleasant attributes, the thing that caught Levi's eye was the tiny symbol inked onto his wrist, almost completely covered by his jacket sleeve. Anyone else would probably have missed it but Levi would recognise it anywhere – he'd spent half of his life running from it. This man was a slaver.

Levi could feel his body tensing with loathing and he trained it into his glare, like a hawk staring down its prey. He wasn't a boy anymore and the hunted was about to become the hunter.

The shit was clearly far too dim to recognise danger, though. He pursed his bloated lips into a mock pout and raised the pitch of his voice.

"Come on princess, light a fucking candle, I'd like to finish me pint."

There were a few nervous laughs and people began to back away.

Levi, taking care to pronounce the catlike grace in his well practiced movements, vaulted over the bar in a single swift leap. Dust rose as his boots landed with a solid thud on the floorboards and a glass smashed as his coat swept after him. It always pays to wear a long coat in case you need to intimidate someone.

"Just a minute, let me go and shit one out for you." Levi said softly, stalking over to the man until he was close enough to count the individual beads of sweat on his tiny head. That was the opening he'd been looking for; any idiot could see that this guy was itching for a fight and Levi was going to give him one.

"I'm gonna teach you a fucking lesson, you little bitch!"

Levi stepped backwards effortlessly to avoid the flailing punch that followed.

"What are you going to teach me, how to look like a total idiot in less than two minutes?"

The man snarled in frustration as Levi dodged again and danced around the tables to avoid his path of unrefined aggression.

"Gonna teach you some respect for y'r'elders!" He paused suddenly and reached into his pocket, flipping open a knife and slashing it blindly through the air.

Levi rolled his eyes as people began to run towards the door and a distant scream echoed out into the night. That had got rid of them, at least, but this had escalated far too quickly for his liking, he'd better finish it.

As his attacker thrust the knife forward he grabbed his wrist, kneed him in the stomach and then twisted until he heard a crack and felt the pressure give under his hand. He caught the knife deftly as the man gave a ragged howl and his grip went loose. To finish, he held his other arm behind his back and pressed the disarmed knife to his neck.

"I'm thirty two," Levi hissed, the knife drawing a single crimson bead from the man's meaty throat as he pushed him down onto his knees. "I've lived in enough shitholes and learnt enough fucking lessons to know that people like you are worth less than the dirt you're grovelling in on this floor."

A sudden surge of uncontrollable anger shot through him like a flare. He let go and pushed the man to the ground.

"I'm fucking sick of this bullshit," Levi spat, pacing around the man who was now squirming pathetically. "When does it end? When does it FUCKING END?" His voice rose to a harsh shout and he aimed a kick to the stomach as years of frustration and resentment flooded from him.

As his boot connected with the soft flesh and he held the knife aloft, ready to stab downwards, his head cleared and he suddenly realised what he was about to do.

"Shit…_shit_…" he muttered, staggered back. He leant against the edge of the bar, staring mutely down at the floor, knife still in hand, chest heaving. He felt panic rising in his throat. He couldn't lose control, not like this, he couldn't let himself become this. He barely noticed the prone form of a body drag itself to its feet and make a run for the door. He couldn't lose his edge when letting yourself believe for even a second that you weren't the underdog could get you killed…

"LEVI, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?"

Shit.

Underdog.

A purple faced man in an ill fitting suit burst into the room.

"I'VE FUCKING HAD IT WITH YOU. I PICK YOU UP, A FILTHY NOTHING OF A STREET RAT, GIVE YOU A ROOF OVER YOUR HEAD, A DECENT JOB, AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME?"

"Yeah and that had nothing to do with a tax dodge," Levi replied dryly, still looking down at his boots.

"THAT DOESN'T CHANGE A GODDAMN THING, I COULD HAVE PICKED FROM HUNDREDS OF PEOPLE FOR THAT JOB BUT I CHOSE TO GIVE IT TO YOU. HOW DARE YOU TREAT ME LIKE THIS!"

"Oh cry me a river," Levi spat back. "You gave the job to me because only a street rat would be desperate enough to work a job in exchange for a single mouldy room and just enough money to get by without starving. YOU owe ME, Weasel."

Weasel's eyes bulged out so far Levi was surprised they didn't pop out of his head and roll along the floor, his crooked moustache began to twitch involuntarily. He visibly straightened his back and breathed deeply in an attempt to gain some kind of state of forced calm.

"Levi," he began, his voice a poor imitation of Levi's cool unattached monotone. "There are people, _paying customers,_ running out of my bar, screaming about a man with a kn-"

His face went slack and he stopped dead as his eyes travelled slowly to Levi's right hand. Levi watched the horror grow in Weasel's expression as the weight of the switchblade he was still holding suddenly increased tenfold. He automatically checked for available exits.

"It wasn't me," Levi said quietly, already knowing it was useless. "You know I wouldn't."

"How could you do this to me?" Weasel whispered, acting as though Levi had never spoken. His fists were clenching and unclenching spasmodically. "How COULD you? YOU LITTLE SHIT, HOW DID I EVER THINK YOU COULD HAVE BEEN SOMETHING MORE? GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!" Weasel yelled, pointing a nicotine stained finger to the door.

"FINE," Levi roared, watching in satisfaction as Weasel jumped backwards in shock. "Fuck it. Fuck you, fuck this, fuck all of it."

He slammed the blade of the knife into the bar and left it there as he jumped over to the other side, hilt quivering in the splintered wood. He rooted under the counter for a hidden bottle and unscrewed the cap.

"I think I'll take my wages for the week. I wonder how much this is worth…" he said, taking a swig of the whiskey – Weasel's best.

Without a single backwards glance, he charged from the room, bottle swinging by his side, and up the hidden stairwell to his tiny living space. The smell of bleach lay thick over the musty dampness, the shelves were almost completely bare despite him having lived there for almost seven years, and the rest of the contents of the room were arranged with a dedicated neatness that bordered on obsession.

Levi tore through them. He grabbed what little possessions he had and threw them to the end of his bed where his bag was waiting, always packed. Taking another long swig from the bottle, he zipped up his stuff, pulled it across the room, kicked open the fire exit and was down the steps in less than a minute. Gone.

The streetlight was moving again. Levi squinted upwards and tilted his head from side to side. His fingers curled uselessly and he absentmindedly squeezed the mud into his fist. It was almost relaxing, really, how it squished between his knuckles. Maybe he's been wrong, dirt wasn't so bad… no wait, there! It was _definitely _moving, coming closer to him… or was it further away? He couldn't tell anymore.

His legs scrabbled uselessly as he attempted to push himself forwards… or up… or something… where was the whiskey bottle? With great effort he turned his head to look at his filthy palm. It was empty. Maybe he'd dropped it and it was smashed in a gutter somewhere… something like him… exactly like him. Or he could have drunk it and thrown it away.

The street light bobbed and then the yellow orb began to grow as it floated towards him. Something was coming through the mist… a thought… something about the… the… the power… the power was out! That's it, the power was out. So if the power was out then… then… his head hurt. Too much to drink. Way too much.

The light was exploding outwards, every raindrop, every slimy brick, was dripping in it. Behind it followed footsteps… and a face… and a really bright scarf… colourful… they were holding a torch… of course, a torch. They were holding a torch. He'd know that. The torch was a streetlight. No… no… the streetlight was a torch… and a person was holding it and they were looking down at him and they were saying something but he didn't know what and a name was coming at him out of the mist… it was growing and swelling like a river whose source was somewhere deep and forgotten inside of him… bursting its banks… Ha… Han…

"Hange," he whispered.

Then the mist was everywhere.


	3. Rainbow

Rainbow

In Levi's dream the storm raged on. The blinding rain bit into his face until he could barely see the outline of a green cloak in the distance. He'd pulled his hood up but the fabric had become drenched within minutes of the heavy clouds opening over them.

A flash of lightning surged across the sky, illuminating a path through the rain. His horse faltered in the second flicker, reared in the third. He swore and whipped his head around, fighting for control with the reigns. The horse screamed. Then gaping jaws, grotesque bulging eyes, lips stretched into a sickening grin, loomed over him. He swore again and assumed a jumping position, every muscle in his body tensing as adrenalin flooded his veins and he readied his gear. This was normally the part where people prayed but he was too scared to be scared.

Shit, what was he frightened for? Where was he going? Why was it so urgent? The memory hovered like one of the dream clouds, dense and impenetrable in the shadows of his mind. His dream self used the next flash of lightning to aim and then he was flying. He twisted and dived and his blades cut through flesh. Under the murky sky, he could barely see his next move and he flew on instinct alone. With every turn of his blade he danced on the knife edge between life and death, his anger and terror throbbing like a pulse. Exhilaration swept through him, lifting him higher, as he swerved sharply out of the way to avoid a flailing hand. Then his stomach dropped and his throat clenched. Another clean cut. Was that…? It was too dark. He couldn't make out the shape as he passed by. Another boom like thunder as a titan hit the ground. There it was again. On the grass. He launched into a somersault in midair to evade death once more. There. Blood that didn't steam. Lying broken in the mud.

Levi gasped for air like a drowning man. His eyes flew open and he thrashed in the tangle of bed sheets, his heart pounding as he struggled to wrench himself free. Cold sweat trickled through the dirt on his back. Everything was grey. His neck drooped under the pain in his head and his forearms trembled as they struggled to take his weight.

Shit, that dream had been too damn realistic… Panting, he pushed the nightmare to the back of his mind to deal with later. Now that his breathing was beginning to even out, the tiny details of his surroundings flooded his mind, the alien environment pushing his senses into high alert. The walls were white, not yellow-white. The bed sheets smelled like washing powder, not damp. He was alone. Also, he noted with a frown and a sigh, someone had stripped him out of his coat and boots but he was still wearing his shirt and pants. They were stiff as cardboard with mud and fuck knows what else but somehow he was stillsticky.

He pulled himself up with a groan and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Weak morning light was filtering in through a gap in linen blinds and cut a bright beam through the dusty air. Levi ran a hand over the back of his head and his fingers tangled in damp matted hair. He withdrew them in disgust. Then he pushed himself off the edge of the bed and stood.

He couldn't help but brush his fingers against the edge of the wall reassuringly as he padded over to the window. As much as he cringed under the admission, he was still shaken in the aftermath of the dream. He pulled up the blind and flung the window open, leaning on the sill as he looked out. The room he was in was sandwiched in a grey and faceless cluster of other identical tower blocks. A maze of footpaths threaded between the buildings and cut out sterilized patches of grass and squared off hedges. A moat of barbed wire, guarded by security cameras standing like watchful sentries, gave the place a suspiciously military feel to it.

Out beyond that though, high above the stagnant urban prison, it was a beautiful summer dawn. The sky was a fresh flawless blue, speckled with a few lingering stars and tainted only by the amber promise of a sunrise. Dew clung to the cool morning air. Levi inhaled deeply. His lungs filled with a sharp rush of energy and his head cleared a little.

Turning away from the window, he stared over to where his coat hung from a hook on the door. There was no sound from the other side. Even outside, the only noise that filtered in through the open window was the distant hum of the waking city and snatches of fleeting birdsong. He allowed himself a second, just a second, to feel peaceful, untouchable, tasting the difference in the wind away from the polluted slum quarter he'd spent most of his life in.

He sighed, his eyes flickering open, and strode over to the bedroom door. He tested the handle. Unlocked. His boots had been thrown carelessly onto the floor and he slipped into them, bending to tie the laces, and shrugged on his coat. It was still soggy and laden with dirt and made him wish he could crawl out of his own skin. He checked the pockets for his knife. Cold metal. He opened the door.

He edged out onto a small landing. It was deserted and a dusty light bulb swung from the ceiling, causing shadows to rise and fall erratically on the bare plasterboard walls. In front of him it formed a corridor with a closed door on the left and a sharp turn to the right where it spiralled down a set of stairs and out of sight. To his right it curved into an 'L' shape and lead to another, slightly ajar, door.

His boots moved softly on the tastelessly carpeted floor as he crept across the landing. The sound of a voice singing tunelessly followed by the clang of a pan on a stove drifted through the door on his right. He stepped forwards, braced himself, reached out for the handle…and the door swung open in his face.

"Aaah, you're awake!"

His eyes were immediately assaulted by a flurry of offensively bright colours as a firm hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him forcefully into the kitchen. He knocked it away irritably and was met with a face full of the dreadlocks as the person in front of him spun round and raced to the stove with a cry of 'no, the bacon!'

Levi watched, slightly off balance, as they scraped charred bacon from a frying pan onto a cracked saucer. He wasn't entirely sure if they were a man or woman, features of both genders present in their dress and figure, and decided to go with something neutral. They were hurrying around the cramped sunshine yellow kitchen without any particular grace but their movements were tempered by a strange balanced surety which caught his attention. Although they weren't particularly attractive, their quirkiness, from their bare feet to the felt woven into their hair, complemented the vibrancy of the sharp excitement which flashed behind their crooked glasses and square jaw.

"Do you remember any of last night?" They rambled on. "You probably don't, you did pass out, after all…"

"Where am I and who the fuck are you?" Levi cut in, folding his arms across his chest.

"Hi, I'm Hanji," they announced, wheeling round and presenting a hand to him. "This is where I live. I picked you up last night because I was worried you were going to drown in your own vomit."

"Nice."

Levi glared at the bacon grease on their fingers until they retracted their hand, completely unperturbed, and bounced back over to the worktop.

"Breakfast?" They asked, holding a plate in the air.

Levi groaned internally as his hangover called out for shitty food.

"I'm covered in mud, turd-brain." He bit back. His damp collar was really beginning to bother him now.

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Hang on, I'll chuck this in the oven, should keep it fairly warm. Alright you shower and I'll lend you some clothes. Then food."

Levi winced at Hanji's grin. Walls, he was rude as fuck, does nothing faze them?

"Um… no offence, shitty glasses, but are those clothes going to be men's or women's?" He asked a little awkwardly, feeling a rare prod from his conscience at it gently reminded him that he was a dick.

Hanji sighed and held the door open for him.

"You people and your genders. Some I buy from the men's, some from the women's. I'm neither. Or maybe both. I prefer just: person."

Levi nodded and stepped through, deciding he didn't really care what gender identity they chose, they were still a nutter. He frowned and wondered tentatively about whatever multicoloured monstrosity Hanji was going to produce.

"Okay, whatever, I don't give a fuck. You're a 'they' then? Just don't dress me in something shitty…or yellow," he asked and Hanji grinned.

"Yep. And also no. I wouldn't bring you something abnormal!"

"I'm not sure you even know what abnormal is," Levi shot back, only half serious. When he said it though, something rippled across Hanji's expression and they ducked behind the door that presumably lead to their bedroom. Levi's eyes narrowed and he pressed his lips together.

After a moment of rustling, a few muttered curses and a soft thump which Levi suspected was a stubbed toe, there was a bang and a triumphant cry. He nudged open the door and looked through the gap to see Hanji throwing numerous items of (completely unacceptable) clothing back into a wooden chest and lifting up a deep blue shirt and black jeans. They held the shirt up to their chest for size and cocked their head to one side, holding up their hand as though measuring it to about his height. The corner of his mouth turned upwards almost imperceptibly and he flattened his back against the wall.

"Here," they announced, striding back through the door. "Are these acceptably boring for you?"

Levi took the clothes which were thrust into his arms and lifted them up to the light. They were almost exactly what he would have chosen.

"They'll do," he said and paused, struggling over the words. "Thank you."

Levi groaned and cursed, fiddling with the temperature of the shower. The dial was marked with a range of numbers and arrows and shit but he could only get three settings out of it at a push: deep friend lobster, dick icicle, or (the worst) a weird mixture of both. At last he managed to find a temperature which fell just outside of acceptable and he stepped under the spray, dirt swirling around the shower basin.

As the remainder of his hangover followed the mud down the drain, he let his mind drift back over the events of the morning and he frowned. He knew, theoretically, that nice people existed, but no fucker in their right mind would bring an unconscious stranger back to their flat for no fucking reason. That left two possibilities: Hanji truly was batshit crazy or they had an ulterior motive.

A single phrase kept spiralling round and round in his mind. 'This is where I live". Not 'this is my home' or 'you're in the south east district'… and the barbed wire… the cameras. Not flashy enough for rich slavers. It could just be a gated community but something just felt wrong. For all of Hanji's eccentricities, something about them, maybe just a warning from his own instincts, spoke of a deep intelligence. They wouldn't bring a stranger back unless they knew they could defend themself and…and… fuck, he couldn't think. There was something else, a thought, a concept, that lay just out of his grasp but close enough for him to sense that it existed. There was a logic behind this. He'd been seen, brought in, given clothes to keep him here longer, delay his leaving…for…for…

He shut off the shower, stepped out, and began to dry off. He felt cleaner than he'd ever done in his life before. His skin was slightly raw where he'd scrubbed at it to fight away the phantom crawling sensation of the dirt on the skin. He shivered slightly. The desire to be clean was like an itch he could never scratch, constantly whispering away at the back of his mind…

He froze. Just faintly, under the whir of fan and the hiss of the water tank refilling, he could hear the murmur of voices. He crouched down slowly and slipped on the borrowed jeans and shirt as quickly as he could, barely breathing with the effort to stay quiet. Suddenly he was acutely aware of the buzz of the light flickering overhead, the drip of the sink, the crack of light under the bathroom door, and pressed the side of his head against door, listening.

"…said she heard…last night…voices…this morning. If this…have to report…last warning."

The low tones were definitely belonged to a man but he couldn't make out much of what was being said.

"Look I've not done anything wrong, sir." Hanji's voice cut like a knife. Levi clenched his hand on the doorframe, his knuckles white. "You know I wouldn't compromise the security…"

"I don't…you get this sorted…I don't want to be tangled up…or any more of you petty catfights, woman."

Levi flinched. There was a rustling of paper and a couple more sharp remarks and then a bang as a door slammed. Levi was left standing there, the fan still rattling overhead, the world he'd woken up in suddenly more dangerous than the one he'd left behind only hours before.

He breathed deeply, trying to calm his pounding heart, his fingers grazing uselessly against the doorframe and catching on splinters. Water trickled from his hair, down his bowed forehead and dropped with a rhythmic tapping onto the tiled floor. Then he bore up his resolve with a hardened perseverance and opened the door with a fire in his eyes and a demand on his lips.

"What the fuck is going on?"


End file.
